


Under the Same Roof

by LoveMusicandShip13



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anxiety, F/M, M/M, Neighbors, OC Story, Roommates, Slow Burn, in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19738003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveMusicandShip13/pseuds/LoveMusicandShip13
Summary: Owen is just starting to live on his own, but it isn't as easy as he hoped. He lives in an apartment building full of people that make his days living there all the more complicated.





	1. Misplaced Boxes

I stood outside of the apartment complex with a box in my arms. The moving truck was behind me, and the two men were carrying boxes out of it and stacking a few at a time on the cart. One of them glanced over at me, and I tried to keep looking back politely. “You need help lifting all this in there?” He asked, taking a box from the man in the truck above him.  
I hesitated. “I’m fine, thank you,” I answered. He nodded, then moved to take out another cart to put up more boxes. Today was finally the day that I took all of my belongings and went to start living by myself. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time; being surrounded by new scenery all alone. I tried to seem positive, to convince myself that I would be okay. It seemed to convince everyone else more than me, but that was necessary to ease their concern too. I slowly made my way through the gate and towards the steps of the entrance. The man from before pushed the full cart to the bottom of the steps.  
“You sure you can get all this on your own?” He asked again. I lifted my shoulders and turned to look at him over the box I was carrying. I guess even at this point in my life, people still doubt me about being capable of handling a lot at once. I still had a smaller build than I would prefer, so I looked younger, and it made me look more fragile. I don’t overwhelm myself though, because I know my limits, it’s just difficult asking others for help. It’s embarrassing, and I want to do everything myself, but I know there are points where that isn’t possible. I must’ve been staring into space because I regained my focus and found him staring at me curiously. I readjusted the box so my hands were holding the bottom of it.  
“Actually...if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind,” I said carefully. He smiled, nodding and tilting the cart to go on each step. He was beside me after a moment and opened the door for me to walk through first. We walked to the elevator and I pushed the button for the second floor. The building had six stories, but I wouldn’t live anywhere that was above the third floor at most.  
“Convenient to live in the lower part, huh?” The mover asked. I nodded.  
“That, and it isn’t too high,” I answered.  
“Scared of heights?”  
I gripped the metal bar behind me tightly, bracing myself as the doors closed. I had to move the box to rest on my hip. “Terrified,” I said. The elevator started to rise, and I could see us moving through the glass side at the back wall of it. He took off his hat and watched the numbers above the doors change. The doors opened, and I led us to the end of the hallway on the left. I set the box down beside the door and took out the small key that was attached to the necklace around my neck. I took it off and unlocked the door, opening it silently.  
“I’ll get the other cart outside,” he told me. “I’ll be there in a bit,” I said. For a few seconds, I watched him walk down the hallway and click the button next to the elevator. I heard it open, and I went inside my new room. It was more spacious than I imagined it to be. I silently thank my parents for checking it out before telling me about it. They always try to look out for me and insisted to help out with the first place of my own. I picked up the box and walked across the room to set it on a counter. Then I went outside the hallway and took boxes one by one from the cart to place them beside the first one. When the cart was empty, I locked the door behind me and pushed it towards the elevator. I took it down to the first floor and walked it back to the truck. I saw the man push another full cart towards me. He took the empty one from me and pushed it to the truck, then walked back and tilted the full one to take up the steps. I took it, and he opened the door for me again before going back to fill up the empty cart. This repeated until all of my boxes were in my locked apartment when it was finished. I stood on the sidewalk as they were shutting the back of the truck and starting it up again.  
“Thank you for helping,” I finally said. Both men looked at me. The one that was helping me get through the building tipped his hat. I gave an awkward smile, waving when they were both inside and drove away. I let out a sigh, turning around and walking back towards the building. The gates closed behind me, and I was completely alone. I went to my room and unlocked the door, slipping inside and locking it again. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. It was basic and simple, which is a good start. I took the labeled boxes in their designated rooms. It was a long day, I managed to complete my bedroom about halfway.  
The sun was starting to fall under the horizon. I had a good view, being on the back of the second floor so I could see buildings in front of the sunlight. It made it look like they were glowing. I had a small balcony outside the sliding glass door that I’ll look out of at some point, but the thought of someone else out there at the same time kept me from doing it today. My bedroom had a closet with two sliding doors, one having a mirror. It had my bed in the middle with a bedside table on either side and my dresser was on the far side beside the window. I already put most of my clothes away, leaving the remaining boxes next to the closet. I started to work on the kitchen, putting away equipment and organizing the drawers. I filled up the cabinet with cups and the other one with bowls. I left the last box on the counter to finish tomorrow. In the bathroom, I put away my things for hygiene and set up the towels in the small cabinet between the bath and door.  
A few hours had passed since my boxes were placed in the apartment and I put most of them away. My body was sore from moving and lifting so much, but I felt a sense of accomplishment about finishing for the day. My stomach growled, making me grimace. I thought I saw a dining room somewhere around the main floor, but I didn’t know what would be there at this time. I would interact with someone in this building at some point, but it still made me anxious knowing it. I couldn’t help it, I won’t be holed up in this place all day every day, so maybe easing my way into it would be good for me. I opened my door and locked it when I was outside the room. I turned around, and I stiffened as my breath caught in my throat. Someone was in the hallway a few feet away from me. He turned around, eyebrows knitting at the noise. He had black hair that was swept over one side and covering half of an eye, which were a piercing blue. He had a healthy tan and was a few inches taller than me with a thin build. Immediately, I averted my gaze and hastily put my key in my pocket, turning to go down the hallway. He was attractive, so of course, I couldn’t be anywhere near him. I put my hands in the pocket of my hoodie and stood in the elevator as it shut and took me to the first floor. I should’ve taken a shower, but it’s too late to go back, so I’m stuck with a later night one instead. I walked down the hallway and followed the heat of what I assumed would be in the kitchen.  
I found myself at the entrance of the room I was looking for, feeling relief that I didn’t get lost. There were round tables every few feet from each other, so I had a vague idea of how many people could be living in this building. Some of them were occupied with people already. I saw a couple in the back, talking amongst themselves with a full table of people next to them. A few tables from them was a single person reading with only a cup half full of something. Unfortunately, my presence made a few people look up at me. I kept my eyes ahead, trying to focus on the small buffet across the room. I walked over, grabbing a plate and covering it with fruits and a sandwich. There was a bar beside it, and the kitchen was at the far side hidden away with a white door with the round window steamed over. I took a slow breath, tightening my grip on the plate and walking to a table closest to me. I was away from everyone else, which I liked and disliked at the same time, but I didn’t want to force myself so soon. I left the plate at the table and went to the other side of the buffet where a table of drinks was set. I grabbed a cup and filled it with water before it reached the top. I sat back down and ate slowly, keeping to myself the entire time.  
There was movement beside me, and I turned my head to look up. It was a girl with long blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail, a few strands sticking to the sides of her face. She was wearing a white chef coat and black pants with faded shoes that matched. She smiled down at me, warm enough that I couldn’t look away. She set a plate in front of me, moving my attention to it in confusion. I looked up again, parting my lips to come up with something to say, but she beat me to it.  
“I heard you were the new resident, so I thought this might make you feel at ease. Welcome to the place!” She wiped her hands on the coat. “I’m Allison, I bake and live on the first floor. Nice to meet you,” she said, putting a hand in her pocket and the other in front of me. I wiped my hands with a napkin and gently shook her hand, not expecting mine to be shaken with energy.  
“I-I’m Owen. Second floor. Nice to meet you too,” I replied. She gave me another smile before leaving quickly to disappear into the kitchen. I finally looked down at the table and realized it was a small slice of chocolate cake that she gave to me. I only had a few pieces of fruit left on my original plate, so I finished that before taking a fork and trying the cake. I had to cover my mouth with my fingers, not expecting the warmth and richness of the flavor. The girl - Allison, was it? - had good reason to bake here. After slowly finishing it I remembered that I had to thank her. I threw the paper plate away, taking the empty cup with me and knocking on the kitchen door. I had no idea how this place worked since it was my first day here. A few seconds later, I heard a yell, then the door was pulled back. A boy with wild dirty blond hair and blue eyes stared back at me. He blinked. 


	2. Steamy Kitchen

“I don’t recognize…” he trailed off. He reached his hand out towards my face, and I leaned back on instinct. He put his back down only to wipe at the mess of hair over his forehead.   
“Is this a bad time?” I asked quietly. He shook his head. “I just...wanted to thank someone, a blonde girl. Allison?” I tried. He wiped at his mouth, turning his head back as he yelled her name. I heard movement, but I couldn’t see from the entrance beside a few stations. She was behind him suddenly, peering over his shoulder curiously. A smile was across her lips quickly.   
“Hey! Do you need something?” She asked. I shook my head.   
“Um...thank you, for the cake. It was good,” I said.   
She clapped her hands together. “I’m glad you liked it! I’ve got the other one in the oven right now, but I can send another slice over if you want,” she offered. I shook my head quickly, and she giggled. “Nice of you to tell me. If there’s anything else, you can come in and look for me,” she put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, “or ask August here.” He smirked down at me.   
“Oh, he’s new here,” he realized. I nodded slowly. “Obviously! Be nice and show him around the kitchen sometime soon,” Allison said. August nodded, giving a wave as he went back into the kitchen.   
“Um...is there a place I can wash this?” I asked, lifting up the cup in my hand. She rose her eyebrows. “We take care of the food and dishes. I’ll take care of it,” she reached for it. I grimaced. “But...that’s more for you to do. You did all the work, I can handle a glass.” She tilted her head, a nervous smile at her lips. “Guess I’ll end up being the one to show you around,” she finally said, opening the door wider. I followed her, my eyes trying to see every part of the kitchen. In the first aisle, there was a salad bar and a microwave with a wall for the silverware and plates. The second aisle had a cooling rack, two ovens, and a stove. The third aisle was labeled “baking” with mixers and had a fridge next to it. The next aisle was for the meats, with a cutting machine and an icebox. The last aisle had three large sinks for dishes and a drying rack with freezers across from it. There was a pantry, a supply closet, and a bathroom in the very back. August was at the sinks, washing dishes with his arms elbow deep in the steaming water. Allison walked over to the drying rack and left to put away a few dishes at a time.   
August looked over in my direction. His eyes landed on the cup in my hands. “You can put it on the cart, hot stuff,” he said. My ears felt warm, probably from the steam.   
“You’re the one in hot water,” I replied. He grinned. I saw Allison come back only to put more dishes away. I slowly walked over to stand next to August, dipping the glass in the hot sink and swishing soapy water before dumping it out and rinsing it in the sink August was in front of. He grabbed it before I could say anything, making me flinch. He placed it at the bottom of the third sink. He pointed at the first sink, the one full of hot water and soap, “for washing and wiping off stuff like food.” He pointed at the sink he was in front of, “for rinsing it all out.” He pointed at the last sink, “for sanitizing to make sure it’s clean properly.” I nodded, glad that I didn’t somehow screw that up. Allison went back and forth a few times until the drying rack was half empty. She took the dishes that were at the end of the last sink and put them away to dry on the available bottom shelves. “I’m gonna get the rest outside,” Allison told him. August nodded, keeping his eyes in front of him. I walked back, following Allison outside the kitchen and shutting the door behind me. She turned her head and flashed me a smile, leaving to get abandoned plates from tables.   
I walked up to the stairs this time to go to my numbered room. There was something in front of the door. I made my way to it to find a plate covered with foil. It couldn’t be Allison since she was so busy in the kitchen. Hesitantly, I crouched down and picked it up. There was a small paper taped over one side. I unlocked my door and relocked it when I was inside. I set the plate on the counter in front of the kitchen, carefully peeling the cover back. A small sigh escaped my lips. It was covered with a handful of cookies. Looking at them closer, I noticed they were all different. One was chocolate chip, another was a sugar cookie, one was snickerdoodle, peanut butter, and dark chocolate. They all looked homemade and smelled good. I unfolded the paper and read it before picking up anything else. “Welcome to the building, nice there’s a fresh face...we should have breakfast sometime...I made different kinds of cookies in case there was some you wouldn’t like…” I furrowed my eyebrows at the messy handwriting. I picked up the sugar cookie and gently took a bite. It was as good as it smelled. I swallowed and continued reading to myself. “I live down the hall in number...40?” I looked up, folding the paper and walking over to open the door and look down the hallway. My number is...35, at the very end of the hallway. They must be on the other side of the building, the opposite end of the elevator. I took a deep breath. It was already evening. It’s too late to see the person that made cookies, isn’t it? They said something about breakfast… I would have to recognize them if I wanted company in the morning. I continued debating with myself out in the hallway for a few minutes. Won’t know until you try, I bitterly thought to myself. I quietly made my way down the hallway, counting the numbers above the doors. I reached the last door. Tentatively, I knocked on the door.   
Footsteps were growing louder until they were on the other side, then the door opened. In front of me was a boy with light blonde hair and grey eyes. He was a couple of inches shorter than me. My heart suddenly felt encouraged. He was wearing an aqua sweatshirt and black shorts with white socks covering his feet. “C-can I help you?” He asked softly. I cleared my throat. “Sorry...are you the one that left the plate in front of my door?” I asked. He nodded.   
“Y-you’re the new resident, aren’t you? I-it’s nice to meet you, I’m Oliver!” He smiled up at me.   
“You too, my name’s Owen. I just wanted to say thank you for the cookies. I tried the sugar one, and it was really good.” I said. He grinned.   
“T-that means a lot, I’m happy you did!” Oliver widened the door. “Do you wanna c-come in?” He asked. “Um…” I trailed off. We just met, and he’s inviting me inside? He noticed my pause.   
“O-oh, goodness. I-I’m sorry. I’m a complete stranger…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. I offered a weak smile.   
“You wrote something about having breakfast together?” I tried quietly. He tilted his head to the side. “I-I must have. You’re new, a-and I didn’t know if you knew yourself around the place yet…” He put the end of his finger to his lips. I shrugged slowly. “If you’re up to it, we can sit together in the morning,” I offered. He smiled, nodding. Then he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand and lowering his head. It reminded me of a puppy, for some reason. I stepped back, waving. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said quietly. He blinked slowly, but waved and shut the door. The third person I met in this building, and I couldn’t get a clear description. He seemed sweet enough, so maybe he’s just naturally friendly. I slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway.   
“Wait a second…” I muttered to myself. My eyes widened. We’re having breakfast together tomorrow morning. The way he smiled made it obvious it was something that came as natural as breathing.   
“Wait for what?” Someone asked. I flinched. I turned around quickly. The boy rose an eyebrow. I gulped, recognizing the dark eyes. I saw him this afternoon. He just came out of the elevator. Behind him was a boy a couple of inches shorter than him, still taller than me, with brown hair and brown eyes. “None of your business,” the brunet scoffed. The taller one glanced at him before looking back at me. Involuntarily, I felt my tongue poke out and slide over my lips. Neither of us said anything else. He turned around and flicked the shorter one on the forehead. “Ah!” He cried out, glaring at him. I left quickly. I was in front of my door and unlocked it before closing it behind me. A minute passed, and I could hear footsteps.   
“So earlier was for him?” An unfamiliar voice asked. Oh, the shorter one.   
“They do it every time someone new moves in. You had one too,” a lower voice replied. The taller one… Wait.   
“Did you get dessert?” The second one asked. I heard a grunt. “You’re the one with a sugar problem. You even took Matthew’s slice.” The first said. I ran a hand down my face. Not now, brain. I need to sleep. I heard a door outside open.   
“Leave me alone. You were too busy staring into space to say anything,” the brunet said.   
“I wasn’t staring into space… I was wondering what the hell he was doing.” Is he talking about me? I ran my fingers through my hair anxiously.   
“New guy?” Brunet asked. Why is my heart racing now?  
“Yeah. He just sat down alone, walked into the kitchen, then left.” This building has such thin walls…   
“Maybe you should ask him,” the brunet said teasingly. I heard a scoff.   
“Are you going inside or not?” He asked instead. I sat down at the counter in front of the small plate. I bit my lip. What if I saw him again? I shook my head, trying to shake away the thoughts too. I covered the plate of cookies with the foil and left the kitchen. I finally took a shower that was much needed. I changed into a white t-shirt and black plaid pants. I turned on the fan and shut the bedroom door behind me, walking over and falling onto the bed. A loud groan escaped my lips. I didn’t realize how much energy was put into today until I felt my body sink into the mattress. I fell asleep to the sound of the fan whirring above me and the thoughts of how the first day was.


	3. Strawberries & Coffee

I woke up the next morning to the sun shining on my face. I grumbled to myself but sat up in bed. I looked around in confusion until I remembered yesterday’s events. I live alone now. A slow grin grew on my face. I live _alone_ now. I finally got up and got dressed. I found a black long sleeve shirt and wore dark blue jeans with it. It’s September now, but I almost never wear short sleeves in public. I usually look for shirts that reach my elbows, at least. I brushed my hair and went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then slipped into sandals I left by the entrance. I locked the door when I was outside in the hallway.  
“O-Owen!” A voice called me as I was going down the stairs. I flinched, turning to the person. Oliver was sitting at a table, waving at me. He was wearing a striped white and blue shirt. I waved back, going down the stairs. I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. He already had a cup in his hands.  
“Hey...did you wait long?” I asked. I didn’t know he would be down here before me. He shook his head. “D-don’t worry. I wake up earlier to get my coffee extra sweet,” Oliver said, taking a sip. I gave a small smile and looked over to the buffet.  
“T-there’s pancakes, muffins, bacon, and eggs,” he told me. I tapped my fingers on the table in thought. After staring, I stood up and walked to the buffet. I took a plate and took a pancake with syrup, a small banana muffin, bacon, and some strawberries. I grabbed a water bottle and sat back down. Oliver smiled at me, leaning back and looking more comfortable.  
“How long have you lived here?” I asked. He hummed, setting down the cup.  
“T-two years. I lived in my college dorms before, b-but my parents thought this would make me more responsible,” he answered. I ate a strawberry.  
“Do you know everyone here then?” I asked.  
He put his hand on his chin. “I-I...think so? I think I know more faces t-than names, though. I’m friends with a few.” He shrugged. I nodded, drinking some water. “A-August and Allison are the ones I get along with best. They make the food here,” he continued, tilting his head to the kitchen.  
“Oh...I met them yesterday. They seemed nice,” I said. He beamed at this. “I-I can show you around the building. O-oh, or August. I think he’s been here the longest. Allison started working with him a few m-months ago,” he told me. I hummed since I was eating the pancake while he talked. I swallowed.  
“Are they related?” I asked, remembering they both had similar hair and seemed close. Oliver choked, putting the cup down and started coughing in his hand. I panicked and stretched his arms so his hands were on my shoulders. His face was pink, and he tried taking deep breaths. His fingers curled over my shoulders before he pulled away. “I-I-I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately. I shook my head. “Sorry I asked,” I said, regret in my voice. He waved a hand at his face for a few seconds before sitting back properly.  
“Whew...n-no, they aren’t related. I-it’s been a while since s-someone asked… they dated in h-high school,” he finally said. I took a piece of the muffin off.  
“Is anyone here related?” I asked. Oliver gave a weak smile. “A-August does have a little sister, just not Allison. She’s i-in middle school.” He took a sip of his coffee. “And...Z-Zach’s sister visits, but she only likes Shawn, I-I think...oh, Shawn’s sister visits too.” I nodded, despite having no idea who either of them was, finishing the muffin a few minutes later.  
“What about you?” I asked. He looked down at the cup. “O-only child. I was kinda lonely growing up, s-so this is...nice,” he admitted. “Same here,” I agreed quietly. He had a sweet smile, and I tried to return it.  
We finished breakfast together. Oliver ended up getting a muffin to go with his second cup of coffee. We were about to leave the room when a shout was heard in the kitchen. I saw smoke start to creep through the doorway, and I felt myself freeze. Oliver looked at me with a concerned expression, then turned it to the door before walking over to it. I slowly followed behind him. The door was thrown open, and August ran through it. He was covered in flour from his face to his shoes. Oliver was quick to back away, but I didn’t have the same reflexes. I yelped as August’s body crashed into mine, fearing the pain I would feel from falling. August threw his arm under me and stuck out the other arm to prevent being slammed into me. He was still dropped on top of me, but I know it could’ve been a lot more painful. I whimpered at the shock down my neck to my knees. He stared at me, looking for any sign of serious pain. I gulped, not knowing where else to look. He may have helped to make sure I didn’t hit my head seriously, but now my back is covered in the same flour he was doused in. My chest, and maybe my legs, were probably in the same condition.  
“You’re...really strong,” I weakly muttered. He gave me a calm smile.  
“I should be, with you falling for me and all.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, but I could feel my ears grow warm. He chuckled at himself, slowly dragging his arm out from under me. He moved to sit on his knees, grabbing my hand and pulling me up to sit in front of him. I let out a sigh, patting at my shirt in a failing attempt to get the flour off.  
“We can get that washed, but you’d be shirtless for a couple of hours,” August suggested. I shook my head.  
“This...is a battle scar,” I said to myself. He snickered, standing up and pulling me with him. Allison ran out the door, her hands covered in flour and some kind of dough. Her eyes widened at the sight of the three of us. “I’m…” she trailed off, face growing red. She started to laugh so hard that the sound echoed across the room. August’s shoulders dropped, and he turned to me with a pained face. “I burned her biscuits, so she threw the bag at me. It exploded, and I couldn’t see where I was going.” He explained in a gloomy tone. I raised a hand to my mouth, attempting to muffle the sound of my own giggles. It wasn’t working, because August looked back at me with an unreadable expression before looking miserable again.  
“I’m going to the showers!” He announced loudly, walking up the stairs. “I-I’m so sorry!” Allison tried to say through her laughter. August only huffed.  
“The showers?” I asked. Doesn’t everyone have their own bathroom? August looked back to me.  
“The fourth floor has a pool, hot tub, steam room, and showers. You can join if you want,” he winked down at me. I made a displeased face, crossing my arms. He smirked, and I watched him walk out of the area. My face felt warm, despite myself. Allison finally collected herself.  
“Oh, Owen, there’s a laundry in the back of the kitchen and in the back of this floor. I’m sorry you got in the middle of it,” Allison smiled weakly. I tried swiping at the powder.  
“Thanks...I’ll change later,” I decided, unbuttoning the top of my shirt. Her face was still pink. Oliver grabbed a napkin and tried to push the flour away. I cleared my throat, and he stepped back with an awkward smile. “I’ll see you two later.” I walked up to the stairs. The thought of actually going to the fourth floor was enough to make me feel embarrassed. I tried to take a few deep breaths to cool myself down as I was going up the stairs. I was almost down the hallway when a figure at the end made me tense. Oh, my god.  
The boy with dark hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a loose grey shirt and black pants that hugged his legs. I’m completely useless. I glared at the floor, bracing myself and walking down the hallway faster. I wasn’t fast enough, thanks to my family giving me their short legs while I’m surrounded by guys with legs that go for miles.  
“What happened to you?” He asked. My shoulders rose and my back arched. What is wrong with me? Completely useless. He took a few steps towards me, but I managed to stumble further away while trying to find my door with my back to the wall. He had a bored expression, but he kept watching me. I tried to get a noise out of my throat.  
“August...and Allison...and flour,” I choked out. My hands curled into fists when he walked over to examine it. I was suddenly extremely aware that I unbuttoned the shirt enough to expose my pale collar bone earlier. His hand rose, and I flinched. He scraped at flour next to a closed button.  
“You’re really jumpy,” he stated. I looked down. “I...can’t help it,” I mumbled quietly. He pulled his hand away and put both hands in the pockets of those jeans that were not loose. Jesus.  
“The dude at the kitchen makes tea,” he said. I slowly looked up, confused. “He said it calms people down. It makes them sleepy too. You can ask for some.” He turned around and walked to the door across from mine. He paused and turned his head. “If you’re too jumpy, I can ask for you.” He opened the door and shut it behind him.  
I was still staring at the door for a few seconds, blinking. I took a step behind me and my back was against the wall again. I slid down it slowly, sitting with my knees up in front of me. _I can ask for you._ I groaned and slammed my head against the wall.

I finally made my way inside my room, shutting the door louder than I intended. I went into the bathroom and pulled off the shirt, washing my face with cold water. I folded it and put it on the counter outside the kitchen, then left to change into a black flannel. I grabbed the shirt and locked my door, heading to the laundry room Allison mentioned earlier. I slowed my steps while I was still on the stairs. Would it actually be in the very back like she said? I slumped my shoulders, trying to mentally prepare myself for asking someone. I went down to the dining room and saw two familiar blondes at a table. Oliver looked up at me and shot a smile before going back to talking. Allison turned around and waved at me. I stood a few feet away from them and lifted the shirt up.    
“You mentioned a laundry?” I asked her. She nodded and stood up. “I’m on break right now, so now I can show you.” She pushed in her chair and Oliver followed. She leads us down the hallway I went through to get there, but she kept going forward until two doors were in front of us. “The whole room is full of stuff for cleaning, so nobody has to wait around,” she told me as she pushed open the door. The room was bland, besides the piles of clothes and towels in baskets or stacked on shelves. There was a row of windows above the washers, so the room was warm. The floor echoed under us as she took us to the back. “They used to label each section for the different floors people stayed in, but only a few people actually follow it nowadays,” she mentioned.    
“Thanks...for showing me the place,” I said. She smiled at me.    
“I-I usually do mine on Sundays,” Oliver pitched in. I looked over at him. “Can I...um, join?” I asked awkwardly. He gave a sympathetic smile, nodding. Allison clapped her hands. “I’ll leave you to it, then! And you can use your bathroom or the fourth floor to wash up or relax,” she reminded me. I thanked her quietly, starting up the washer and putting in the shirt. It felt like a waste to me, but I also didn’t want to have a stained shirt lying around for the next few days. Oliver crouched down in front of the machine. I tilted my head, confused until I noticed his eyes were following the swishing of the water. He looked up at me with a guilty face, but I chuckled.


	4. Deep Breaths

A few minutes had passed that we stayed in the laundry room making small talk. “So...anyone can go to the fourth floor?” I asked. I was sitting on top of one of the unused machines now, and Oliver was sitting next to me. He nodded. “I-I can show you,” he offered, already jumping off of the metal box. I shrugged, sliding down and following him to the elevator.  
“Are there...windows?” I asked quietly. He looked at me curiously. “W-well, sure. There are balconies every floor too, a-and a garden on the roof.” He waited for my reaction, but I only tightened my grip on the metal bar next to me as the elevator doors closed. I let out a low hum, keeping my eyes on my shoes.   
“O-Owen?” He called, making me glance up. “A-are you scared of heights?” He asked. I bit my lip.   
“I’m fine...when I’m at the exit. I get sick...during car rides. My heart pounds even when it’s over...elevators and cliffs… I get sick for a few minutes…” I repeated, leaning my back on the wall. I noticed Oliver reach his hand out slowly, so I didn’t flinch when I felt it on my shoulder. “J-just breathe, okay?” He instructed softly. I gave a weak smile, breathing in my nose and out my mouth slowly. I’ve been told about that breathing technique as far back as middle school. Oliver moved to stand next to me by the wall, his hand moved down to my elbow. I feel...weird.  
“A-August said he was gonna be there, didn’t he? H-he’s really good at making people feel better,” Oliver said.  
I took a slow breath out. “Both of you...have that in common.”  
He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. “G-gee, thanks. He says I make them smile. W-with him, his friends fight a lot, but he ends up making them laugh together at the end of the day.” He smiled at the thought. I tilted my head back, watching the numbers change. The doors slowly opened, and I jumped at the chance to escape. Oliver looked concerned until we were both out and we were standing in a huge room. August didn’t miss anything when he told me about it before he left. In the middle of the room was a pool, and next to it was a hot tub. The other sides were separated by walls.  
“We...can come here anytime?” I asked. Oliver nodded. “I-I wouldn’t recommend the middle of the night. I-it’s cold,” he said. I furrowed my eyebrows. Was he awake that late out here before? There were windows on the other side of the room with sliding doors that led to a balcony, which probably helped warm the room up. I walked over to the left side labeled “showers”. My hand froze on the door when I heard singing.  
I heard Oliver come up behind me. “A-August takes long showers when he has music,” he whispered. I felt my face heat up, from the steam. The guy that fell on me is now showering and singing to himself and I’m right outside. I hit my head against the wall. Oliver yelped. “W-why did you do that?” He asked. I took a deep breath. “I...don’t know.” I blinked. I couldn’t tell him. I shook my head and walked back to the pool. “D-do you feel sick?” He asked. I shook my head. I felt his eyes on me still. I was at the edge of the pool, and I heard him make a surprised noise when I started to undress.  
“O-Owen!” He cried, walking over to try and stop me. My shirt and pants were thrown to the side, and I was left in black boxers. I leaned forward and dropped myself into the pool. Jesus Christ, it was freezing. My entire body felt like it was being pricked at with tiny needles. I pushed myself deeper before resurfacing with a loud gasp. My clothes were in Oliver’s hands, who looked terrified. “H-heat stroke?” He asked weakly. I shook my head back and forth to get the hair out of my eyes. A nervous giggle escaped him at the sight. I sighed, wiping my face with my hands and swimming to the edge he was standing at. He ran off and came back with a towel.  
“Y-you don’t have your own swimsuit?” He asked. I swam over to him, and he slowly sat down above me.  
“No...I’ve just been feeling hot.” I looked up at him but looked back down. He sighed.  
“Who's been feeling hot?” My body jolted at the new voice. I saw Oliver smile at him.  
“A-August! I-I think Owen caught something, he doesn’t look too good,” Oliver said, sounding worried. I couldn’t turn my head. I was still hanging onto the edge of the pool in front of Oliver. I folded my arms and rested my chin on them, feeling like an idiot.  
“He doesn’t? I thought he looked pretty good earlier,” he said. I tightened my grip on my arms. Why me? I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.” Well, that wasn’t too convincing. I heard his footsteps move across the room and I still kept my gaze down when he was standing over Oliver. I felt their stares and hated it. I took a breath. “I’m fine,” I repeated. I looked up to try and dismiss it, but then I saw August was only in a towel and I dropped my head back into my arms. He was on his knees in front of me, I could feel it.  
“What does it feel like?” August asked. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought he was going to say something witty or charming. I rubbed my eyes and looked off to the side instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand moving towards me. I felt the back of his hand against my forehead. He was warm. “Nothing...seriously, I just…” I trailed off. How was I supposed to explain something like that? “You’re kinda warm,” he told me. I sighed. Maybe it’d be easier to blame it on a fever. I did get more sick during the winter, so it could make sense for the time coming. I just hated that I had their attention like this, getting worried over nothing.  
“I’m sorry,” I muttered quietly. Oliver tilted his head. “O-oh, Owen, there’s nothing to apologize for. Y-you didn’t do anything wrong.” I winced, still feeling guilty.  
“Come on,” August said as he started to stand up. I leaned back to look at him. “Out of the pool,” he finished. I still felt fear in my stomach. Oliver lifted the towel towards me. I swam over to the steps leading into and out of the pool and he followed. I thanked him for the towel, wrapping it quickly over my shoulders. August was next to Oliver again, smirking down at me. “What?” I asked, the fear growing.  
He shook his head. “I said you could join me earlier, but I didn’t mean taking a random swim.” I felt my face grow hot again.  
Oliver hit his arm. “Y-you made him nervous!” He scolded. My eyes widened, my chest felt heavier at that. I shook my head quickly, turning away from the two. August chuckled, and it sounded so natural coming from him. I grimaced to myself. An arm went around my shoulders, and I jumped. Now he laughed while I hung my head. Oh, god, it was his arm. A tanned, freckled arm and his hand almost rested on my collar bone. Oliver leaned forward to smile over at me but I couldn’t return it without looking pained. And now Oliver was at my side so I was between the two of them. We walked over to the elevator with me feeling like my stomach was trying to do a flip. I leaned against the wall as the doors closed, focusing on my breathing Oliver helped with before. For whatever reason, August noticed and the arm around me wrapped closer, which was definitely not helping me with remembering the breathing exercises. We landed on the second floor, making me confused. “Y-you have to get dressed, you know,” Oliver said, giggling at my expression. They walked me to my room.  
“I should stop by sometime,” August said to himself. I tensed. By himself?  
“Why?” I asked without thinking.  
He shrugged. “Something tells me I should be checking up on you.” This can’t be happening. “If you’re still feeling warm later, I’ll bring some tea or something,” he said. I finally looked up at him. He smiled. I gulped, shrugging.  
“I don’t wanna cause trouble…” I muttered. Oliver patted my arm, which was still hidden in the towel draped over me. “I-it’s no trouble! I can bring over some blankets,” he suggested. I folded my hands in the towel and brought it to my face, wanting to hide. How can people just be so nice? I took out my key from the pocket of my pants and unlocked my door silently. They said goodbye, and both went back to the elevator. I sighed, still standing in the door. I started to fold my clothes because I didn’t like seeing them bunched up.  
“Since when did you get buddied up with the two crazy blonds?”  
I yelped, almost dropping my clothes. I turned around with a tight grip on the towel to cover my torso and the other hand squeezing the clothes in my fist. The guy from earlier. I gulped, accidentally shifting my eyes over him before looking away. “Huh?” I asked. He was leaning against the wall, and I felt embarrassed about my own appearance.  
“August and...Oliver?” I guessed. “Who else?” He asked, in a bitter tone. My eyebrows furrowed. “They’re...nice,” I said slowly. He turned his head, wiping his mouth. When he looked back at me, he rose an eyebrow.  
“You’re in a towel,” he stated. I nodded, confused. “So was the other one,” he continued. I licked my lips. “He took a shower...because of the flour…” I explained. Oh, I rhymed. Weird.  
“And you went with him?” He asked. I didn’t like the way he said it. I blinked, looking over to the elevator. “I went to the laundry room, for my shirt...then changed...then Oliver showed me the pool,” I said, voice quieter at the end. He leaned forward like he was going to move, but he stayed. He let out a breath. “Okay,” was all he said. He got up and started to leave. I watched him, bewildered. He was only a few steps away from where he was standing, but when he turned he was about a foot away from me.  
“I’m Zach,” he introduced himself. I’ve heard that name before...from Oliver. It felt weird making eye contact. “I’m...Owen,” I replied. He looked up and down at me, and I felt self-conscious again. He put his hands in his pockets. The expression he made seemed like he decided on something. “Owen,” he repeated to himself. My chest felt lighter. He only said my name, but it sounded better from him. Wait. I cleared my throat, nodding. “I’ll, um, change now,” I said, pointing at the door with the hand on the towel. That made him look up, registering what I said. I took a step through the doorway, readjusting the clothes in my hand.  
“Next time you’re at the laundry let me know,” he said. I paused, leaning back and tilting my head. “What?” I asked. He ran a hand through his hair. “Some people mess with the stuff in there, so I do my own.” That...didn’t explain much. Still, he told me, and it sounded like a way to see him again. I looked down at the thought. Don’t mess this up. I slowly nodded, and he left. I shut the door behind me, standing there for a moment before locking it. What was that about? I sighed, shrugging off the towel and walking into my bedroom.  
There are times when I’m really, really stupid. When those times are in front of other people, I have to leave and not look back. I opened the drawer and took out a different pair of boxers, changing from the one that now smells of chlorine. I put on the clothes I wore before, which were colder than I thought they would be. I walked out into the living room and opened the sliding door. I stood in the doorway, too anxious to walk over to the railing.  
A faint sound started to become clearer. I looked over to the other balcony, and I tensed. Someone was out here like I feared would happen if I went outside too.


	5. Guitars and Tea

He was playing the guitar, slowing strumming to himself. He had on a grey beanie with a jean jacket and dark blue pants. His hair was dark, and his legs looked long stretched out in front of him. I looked away, debating on if I should walk back inside or not. The fresh air felt good against my skin, and the warmth of the sun was subtle. A guitar started playing loudly. I flinched.   
“Hey,” he called out. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at the ground. The guitar stopped playing. Is it too late to run in? I slowly turned around, pointing to myself in question. It made him smile, and the way the light hit him was almost too perfect. Oh, god. The sunlight made a piercing in his ear clear to see. His eyes were a smoky gray.   
“You’re the new guy, aren’t you?” He asked. I nodded, not trusting my voice. He started to stand up. “August mentioned you were gonna show up sometime this week. Guess we’re neighbors.” He shrugged with a small grin. An awkward chuckle escaped me.   
“I guess…” I muttered. He tilted his head.   
“Not much of a talker?” He asked. I bit my lip.   
“Sorry,” I said quietly. He shook his head.   
“Everyone takes their own pace.” He gave a reassuring smile. Wow. I have to leave. I gave a tense nod. He stretched his arm out towards me, hand open. “I’m Shawn, by the way.” I took a few steps forward and tried to figure out how to do a handshake. Why do they exist? Do I shake a lot? Do I shake at all? Do I wrap my whole hand around and grip his? No, no, don’t do that. Why are handshakes a thing? I weakly put my hand around his and shook it gently. I let out a startled noise when he gave a heavier shake. He grinned.   
“My dad said nobody gets anywhere with a weak handshake. It shows you aren’t confident,” he said. Our hands were still holding for a second longer before we both pulled away. Social interactions were never really my forte. “I’m Owen,” I told him softly. He put both of his hands on the railing.   
“How do you like the place so far?” He asked. I shrugged. I’ve been having a difficult time when it comes to some of the guys around here. It didn’t help that I couldn’t explain myself to anyone or make up for it. “I’ve only...met a couple of people...and I’m not finished unpacking,” I started. “I’ve only seen a bit of the first floor and the fourth, besides this one,” I finished.   
He tilted his head. “Well, there’s room for change,” he said. I furrowed my eyebrows. He grinned. “You met me, and you can ask almost anyone to show you the place. Don’t worry about it.” A shy smile went across my lips.   
“You’re cool,” I said without thought. Who says that? I have to go inside and pray to whoever’s listening that he forgets meeting me. His face went from a friendly smile to a wide grin, and then he was laughing. This is humiliating. Why couldn’t I be normal and just say thanks? But it wasn’t mocking laughter, like making fun of someone, it sounded like he just heard a good joke. Oh. I’m a joke. He calmed down, and he leaned over to pat my arm.   
“Dude, you are so weird. You’re cool too.” I felt my face grow warm. Maybe it was the heat outside. His laugh was full of life, like when you see a little kid running away and they’re laughing their hearts out while being chased. I rubbed the back of my neck. “It...was nice meeting you,” I said. He picked up his guitar. “You too, Owen.” He gave a salute with two fingers, sliding the glass door shut. I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. How many guys lived here? I groaned, hitting my head.   
I went back inside and slid the door closed. Maybe I should go out again? I want to, but after the incidents today the idea started sounding less interesting. I sat down on the couch and turned on the tv. I hated the silence. It made me feel like something would happen and I wouldn’t know until it was too late. My mind started to wander. I realized that I met two of the people Oliver mentioned while we were having breakfast together. Shawn and Zach. I wonder who else lived here in such a big building. The people I’ve met so far were...unfamiliar, but a fresh experience. A knock on the door made me jump. I turned off the tv, which was on some kind of show with a time-traveling plot, and walked over to the door. I stood on the tip of my feet to look through the tiny window. Seeing dark hair made my pulse race. What was he doing here? I opened the door, peeking my head through. I saw a hint of a smirk before it disappeared. “Yes?” I questioned. A cup was lifted a few inches away from my face. I leaned back.   
“I think I mentioned this,” Zach said. I stared back in confusion.   
“Tea?” I asked. I suddenly remembered the small phrase that made me flustered earlier. “O-oh...you got this for me?” I asked with a small voice, opening the door wider to show myself. “No, I got it for myself, even though I told you about it,” he rolled his eyes. He looked down at me and shook his head. “It’s like second nature.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Sarcasm?” I asked. He nodded. He lowered his hand, and I slowly took the tea from him. I noticed our fingers brushed, and I tried to keep myself from dropping the cup.   
“Thank you…” I said softly. I took a sip, the warm fumes covering my face as the cup was tilted. I didn’t like tea. But if a tall, dark-haired guy offers to get it and then does it, how could I tell him that? A thought came to mind. When I looked up, he was still looking at me, and I felt warm. From the tea.   
“You asked August for it?” I asked. I regretted asking when he looked annoyed. “I asked his girlfriend.” He turned around and walked to his door. “W-wait,” I started. I froze. Why did I say that? He turned his head. “Did you want any?” I asked. He shook his head, looking at me for a few seconds before opening and shutting the door. I sighed, taking a step back and shutting my door. I sat down at the counter and drank slowly. It wasn’t as bad as the tea I had before. I actually did feel a bit calmer, but I don’t know if it was from the tea itself or just having a moment to myself. I finished it after a few minutes, still having no idea what was inside it to be made. I wonder why he acts more distant when certain people are mentioned. I can’t think about that, it’s none of my business. Still, the few I’ve met seem kind enough… I shake my head.  
I get up and leave the apartment, locking the door with the cup in my hand. I walk down the stairs to the kitchen, knocking and slowly letting myself in. Allison was sweeping the floor with a broom, singing to herself. She looked up in my direction, slowly stopping with a nervous smile. “Hey, Owen.” She noticed the cup in my hand. “Did you come in here at some point…” she blinked. “Oh. Oh, that was for you!” She stood up straight with the broom in her hand.   
“Zach brought it for me,” I said, surprised at myself. She nodded.   
“He said it was for the shaky blond, and, well…” she grabbed a bit of her golden hair, which was held back with a headband. “There are a lot of us around here nowadays,” she giggled. I gave a small smile. “August is in the pantry, but the sink is full if you wanna drop that off.” She said, starting to sweep again. I washed the cup and left it in the third sink to sanitize. I’m the shaky blond? I washed my hands, thinking back to everything that’s happened in a couple of days. I heard a slam behind me, in the pantry. I dried my hands and peeked through the doorway. My face grew hot. August bent down to pick up a container that fell. His shirt rolled up, and I looked at the floor. I knocked, and his back arched as he stood up.   
“Whoa - hey.” He smiled at me. I felt guilty just looking at him. I waved. “Feel any better?” He asked. I hesitated but nodded. He stretched his arms above himself, moving the container to a shelf over him. His shirt went up again. “I was gonna check in on you when Allison and I finished up here,” he told me. His eyes were focused on balancing the weight, and I was shamefully glancing in his direction.   
“Is she…” I stopped myself. Am I able to ask that? He put away the container and moved a cart behind him.   
“Is she what?” He asked. I bit my lip. He noticed. He rose an eyebrow, watching me back out of the pantry.   
“Nothing...see you later,” I said and stepped out.   
“Wait.” His voice stopped me. Fuck. I lowered my head and braced myself, walking back inside. He waved me over, making me take steps to stand closer in front of him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The pantry is so small.  
“Were you gonna ask…” he started, leaning forward. My pulse started to race as I leaned back. “If she was single?” He finished. My mind went blank. What? We stared at each other, and I felt my hands start to shake. His arm was resting on a shelf behind me, making me feel trapped. I swallowed, shaking my head quickly. There was so little space in here.   
“No, no, no,” I said, wincing at the voice crack. This is bad. I tensed as I felt his hand on my wrist. This is really bad. He started grinning. I could almost hear my heart beating from here.  
“Is she what then?” He asked. A small whimper left my throat, and my ears were burning. When did he get closer? I shook my head again. “I don’t know,” I whispered, not trusting my voice. He leaned back, and I tried to breathe. He started to look concerned.   
“Hey...I was just kidding,” he said. I tried to nod, but my body felt stiff and shaky at the same time. “Owen?” He asked softly. My heart won’t stop racing. He took a step back. I lowered my head and closed my eyes. Can I breathe? My chest hurts. I can almost hear the blood rushing.   
“Do you need some air?” He asked. I nodded. I don’t want to say anything. His actions were slow. He was being careful. I felt his hand on my back, and I almost arched. “Easy. In and out,” he instructed. He was still so close. He walked me out of the kitchen.   
“Allison, we’re going out,” he told her. She nodded slowly, knitting her eyebrows. There was a back door that I didn’t notice before. August opened it, and it looked like we were at the back of the building. It smelled like the trash was dumped here. “A little farther,” he said. His hand didn’t leave my back, which was both comforting and horrifying at once. We were at the side of the building. I leaned against the wall, steadying myself.   
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He asked. I grimaced. He moved his hand from my back to my shoulder, standing in front of me.   
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He took my left hand and put it on his shoulder. “Just focus on your breathing,” he said. I took a shaky breath. I tried breathing in my nose and out my mouth. “Like that. You’re doing fine.” He took my right hand and put it on his other shoulder. His hands were on my hips. This is humiliating.   
“I’m so stupid,” I murmured. He shook his head. “Calm down. Focus.” I managed to get my breathing back to normal. He was silent, watching my response. I looked up at him, even though I wanted to do nothing but hide. Despite the way I acted, he was smiling.   
“What?” I asked, fearing the answer.


	6. Younger Days

He lifted his hand to brush some hair away from my face before putting it back on my hip. I still felt really hot.   
“I was right before,” he started. I glanced up at him. “About checking up on you.” I slumped my shoulders, suddenly feeling exhausted. He chuckled. “I won’t ask right now.” The fear returned. I can’t explain myself, and I don’t know how to make up for it.   
“The pantry was small,” I said quietly. He hummed.   
“So fear of heights and claustrophobic?” He asked. I groaned, nodding. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and we went back inside. I know I had this thought before, but he was an amazing person. I hated myself for thinking about it.   
Allison was sweeping the next aisle. “Hey, boys,” she called. August waved, leading me out of the kitchen. I stayed in silent confusion when he took me to the stairs with him, walking us to my floor. We were walking down the hallway, and I realized his hand never left my shoulder.   
“Can I stay a bit to make sure you’re okay?” August asked. I made an uneasy sound.   
“I...have bad moments, but they’re usually spread out…” I said. I don’t think it would make me relax at all if there was a guy in my apartment. An attractive, friendly guy to be clear.   
“I won’t push it if you’re not comfortable with it. Just tell me and I’ll give you space,” he told me. I grimaced. Would he take it the wrong way if I suddenly left after what happened? At the moment, I didn’t like the sound of being alone. My thoughts were all over the place. I sighed, taking out my key.   
Zach was coming out of his apartment, and our eyes met. I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach. What did we look like from an outside view? Oh, god, probably bad. When he looked at August, he seemed annoyed, until he saw my face. He locked his door and walked past us. I bit my lip. I unlocked my door, and August pulled his hand back. I opened the door wider silently, and he walked in after me.   
“You’re not finished unpacking?” He asked, looking around. I groaned.   
“There was just...so much more than I thought,” I said stressfully.   
He chuckled. “Well, if you need another pair of arms, I’m downstairs.” I looked back at him. “Does that mean you do the heavy lifting?” I asked, voice hopeful. He smirked.   
“I answer every beck and call from damsels in distress.”   
I narrowed my eyes. “Damsels in distress,” I repeated. He nodded. “You’re a new addition of the set, get comfortable.” I thought about that while I walked into the kitchen.   
“I have...water and water,” I said. Great. I have to go shopping. August hummed. “Well, I can’t just deny water.” A smile grew on my lips. It’s weird how someone you barely know can have such a calming presence. I took out the pitcher and poured two glasses. We sat down next to each other on the couch. I turned on the tv for background noise. Despite all of my heavy thoughts going against what was happening right now, I tried to make it seem casual.   
“Oliver said you lived here the longest,” I mentioned. August leaned back against the couch. “Well...three years, give or take. I think he showed up a year later,” he said. My eyebrows rose. “Has it been the same people living here since then?” I asked. He thought for a moment.   
“I think so. Most of us have known each other as far back as going to school together. For me, it was my group and Oliver. I met Zach and his gang when we were neighbors. Only a couple I met when they moved here.” He pointed at the door. “He’s across from you. Zach, I mean. Dude can hold a grudge, I’ll tell you.” He shook his head. I knitted my eyebrows.   
“Oh...uh, what about everyone else?” I tried. August smiled. “I went to high school with Daniel, Shawn, and Michael. I met Oliver on campus a few times. I met Allison again a few months ago when she was going around begging for a job.” He grinned at that. “Thomas and Matthew are Zach’s friends, they’re alright. Mm...Layla, Bianca, and Sophie are okay.”   
I blinked. “I...have no idea who any of those people are. Except for the three that live on this floor.” He gave an embarrassed smile.   
“Zach and Oliver. Who’s the third?” He asked. “Shawn,” I tell him quietly, taking a sip of water. He actually looked excited. “Oh, yeah! Shawn is right next door. When did you meet him?” He asked. I pursed my lips together for a second. “I walked out to the balcony and he was with a guitar,” I told him.   
He hummed. “We used to play together in high school. Everybody kept telling us it was a total chick magnet, but we only played just to get better in public.”  
“I would think the more convincing reason to start that hobby is to get attention, as they told you,” I mumbled. He laughed.   
“I’m not as guilty for that as people first think. I actually learned it to keep my sister entertained. I knew Shawn had practiced since middle school when he was in the dreamy girlfriend phase,” he said.   
“Dreamy girlfriend phase?” I asked quietly. He groaned at this. “It was so bad back then. He was lovesick. Nowadays he’s actually a guy, which he calls it, not me. The dude is so creative, he used to write songs and poems for Layla, who he dated in middle and high school. They were on and off a lot, no wonder he had all that inspiration.” He looked over at me, maybe looking for a reaction. I didn’t think mine was an appropriate one, seeming tense. I tried to laugh.   
“So after all that he’s better?” I asked. That didn’t sound right.   
“Definitely. He’s one of my best friends, but if someone did as much as she did to him... I don’t know anyone else who could take that much.” Now that really didn’t sound right. I don’t really know any of these people, but it still makes me uncomfortable hearing things like that. He noticed. “That probably sounded a lot worse than in my head. I’m not really holding anything against her, and Shawn is just a softie about anything. I guess all she really did was stress him out,” he explained. I nodded. Relationships, in general, sounded stressful. I avoided things like that until around middle school, but that was a really rough start. Did it only get worse in high school? I haven’t given it much thought since then. It was all just...a lot.   
It was quiet between us, drinking and thinking about our own experiences. I bit my lip. “You learned for your sister?” I ask, replaying the conversation. He started to smile, a distant one that was probably meant for her.   
“She’s scared of storms. She would get so restless until I put on music. I couldn’t carry a radio everywhere, so I asked Shawn about teaching me. She calms down, she sleeps, it worked just to ease her I guess…” He trailed off. “She got excited when I would play in front of the school. That was around the time Shawn and I got a crowd. He wrote songs about his girlfriend, and I picked up a few things. But I wrote mine for her.” My chest felt lighter, hearing him speak so fondly about someone he did a lot for. I’ve been staring. I look out the window.   
“So you play and you sing?” I asked quietly, sparing a glance.   
He smirked. “I can serenade if that’s the question.” My face heated up.   
“It wasn’t,” I grumbled. He chuckled.   
“There was only one other person I wrote a song for. I can play in front of people, but writing is kinda personal,” he said. I raised my eyebrows while bringing the cup to my lips.   
“You pulled a Shawn?” I asked without thinking. He blinked, and I didn’t expect him to start laughing. I stared in both amazement and bewilderment. He calmed down after a moment, calming down his grin to a smile.   
“I’ll give you a hint. They’re in the building,” he said. I didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t because I wasn’t interested, but it was the opposite. I wanted to know way more than I should. My parents always told me I was too curious for my own good. Whether it was learning about something, or experiencing something, I would always wonder. I never really did anything too extreme, but almost anything is “too extreme” for me, so thoughts would plague my mind.   
I hesitated. “Do I know them?” I asked, putting my attention on the cup and taking a drink. He hummed and nodded. I had a feeling I knew who it was, but the reality was that the thought gave me a feeling I couldn’t pinpoint. It was romantic, writing something because of someone. Shawn did. Maybe the boy on the balcony with his guitar was as loving as he was friendly. August had done it for his sister to be a way to calm down, and for someone here I know. Maybe the boy that can speak and laugh so easily to anyone had a part that was rarely shown. I shook my head. I’m overthinking. I won’t know unless the time comes, one day, to see for myself.   
There was a knock on the door before I could find the courage to say the name. “O-Owen?” A voice called behind it. I stood up. They sounded panicked. I walked over to the door and August followed. I opened the door.   
“O-oh. Jeez. I-I asked Allison where A-August was and she said he was with you,” Oliver explained. I nodded, opening the door wider.   
“Oli?” August asked, confused. “What’s up?” Oliver looked even more stressed. “A-August! A-Allison needs you downstairs!” I leaned back as Oliver reached out and grabbed August’s hand, pulling him out the door. I locked the door behind me, following them anxiously. “Is the stove on fire again? I told her that it was normal. Unless she burned something or it got to the filter above it-” August started, but was cut off by a shout. I stared at him, and his face slowly changed. He looked calm talking about Allison and the kitchen, but he started to mirror Owen’s face.   
“You know what that was?” I asked. Oliver pulled August by the hand towards the stairs, quickly going down the hallway to the stairs for the dining room. “Guys?” I called, having no idea what was going on. August looked back to me.   
“Shit. Owen, stay near Oliver or me. By the exit or away from what’s going on,” he instructed. “What?” My voice went high. Oliver took my hand while I was still behind them. “I-it’s not so bad when you g-get used to it,” he tried. The look on my face was clear that that didn’t help. We were finally at the door. Nothing was on fire, thank god. But there was damage. A table was fallen over, and some chairs. There was even glass on the floor. Patches of water from the flower vases soaked parts of the carpet. No fire, but steam was coming out of the kitchen. There was a small group of people right in the middle of it, the few bystanders looked like they were trying to leave without being noticed.   
“Stop it!” A familiar voice begged. It was from Allison.   
“You dumbass, you almost hit her!” Someone yelled. Allison was next to a tall, lean guy with curly light brown hair. He was wearing a long-sleeve yellow shirt and brown pants. A brown jacket was tied around his waist. He was angry, and I was disturbed at myself for thinking it was as intimidating as it looked brave. There was a guy across from him with the turned table between the two.   
“Only because you moved! Pussies dodge!” He yelled back. He had shorter brown hair and was wearing a dark red short sleeve shirt with black pants. I noticed the broken vase that was a few feet away from Allison’s feet. She looked scared, but she wouldn’t move. August stepped inside the room.   
“Who almost hit Allison?” He asked, his voice not the laid back tone I had gotten used to. They both ignored him. “You just say that because every girl dodges your disgusting ass!” The one in yellow retaliated. The one in red picked up a chair. Oh, my god. “I get more bitches than you ever have! Sounds like you’re jealous!” The boy in yellow shoved Allison aside while he tried dodging the throw. I could only stare, frozen in fear. She grabbed him so he wouldn’t get up. “This has gone too far!” She cried. He pinned her down and got up just as the other guy found a new vase.


End file.
